groundrules: (Default)
let's set d o w n some ([personal profile] groundrules) wrote in [community profile] westwhere2023-05-15 05:49 pm

the sunken | part i



THE SUNKEN






Welcome to the first log of Arc VI: the Sunken, which covers 15 May – 2 June and doubles as a test drive meme.

Back/forward date as needed! The calendar date suggestions are indicative.

The TDM is open to everyone! If you decide to apply to the game, you can get an invite from current players or the upcoming enabling meme — or participate in the test drive meme and get in touch @ [personal profile] groundrules to chat things over. We currently have 13 slots available for new players.

Test drivers can use this post for logs and network posts — old timers, please make your network posts at [community profile] eastbound.

LOST AT SEA | TEST DRIVE TOURISTS


You wake, gasping, in a stormy sea, your thoughts slowed to a confused trickle. Skill, floating wood or a kindly stranger — who you can’t understand — help you to reach shore.

Villagers discover you collapsed on sand and provide critical (if rickety) communication and translation devices. They say you are in Sunken Yancai, a fishing village progressively overtaken by waters and cursed by the secretive ‘ladies of the lake’ to transit through time.

■ Rescuers group newcomers and supply questionable village couture, warm meals and accommodations in abandoned, half-flooded homes or spare small boats anchored in Yancai’s waterways. Huddle up, recover your strength and don’t think too hard on why your memories are hazy over the next three days.

■ Come morning, you visit village leader Quanze Tsaymien, then the sorceress Karsa — who explains you are otherworlders summoned into Akhuras by undead lords who wish to weaponise you in their battle against humans and one another. Karsa is an associate of the Merchant, who leads otherworlders towards ancient transport beacons east.

■ One such beacon rests dormant in Yancai. The group must infiltrate the village and wait a few weeks until it shifts to a point back in time when the beacon was active.

■ Newcomers are handed passport papers with their new identities in Yancai, where they may be known as a bankrupt merchant, perpetually drunk sailor, whale hunter, raft surveyor, mermaid who has just gained their legs, crab collector... feel free to invent a dutifully hilarious apt role for their seaside sojourn.


OLD TIMERS | THE DRIFTING


You dragged yourself here in a haze. You arrived long ago, as if in a dream. You were born and bred in this village. In truth, your memories of reaching lively Yancai feel nebulous and alarmingly inconsequential.

Characters are facilitated new identities and dwellings by the Merchant, or believe they have had them all along.

■ A weary Karsa warns to say nothing to party members with altered memories, until the sorcery that affects them runs its course.

■ Memory-altered characters progressively regain their memories within three to five days (by 20 May). They have their memories partially or fully back at night ( midnight to 5 a.m.). Throughout the day, memory regains can trigger migraines, eerie confusion and paranoia.

Hauntings begin once characters have fully regained their memories.

■ Once everyone is ‘back to normal,’ Karsa explains that Yancai periodically transits through time. The memory alterations are a magical solution endorsed by the village council, which ensures locals mentally weather these shifts. Villagers continue to blithely accept you as part of the community.


(DON'T) HOLD YOUR BREATH


Karsa reunites the existing party and newcomers, issuing first assignments. The Merchants’s information suggests the beacon of Yancai will be online once the village travels in time within weeks. A dubious Karsa asks the party to check on the beacon, located in the former House of Commerce of the largely inundated merchants’ district. Reach it by rowing boat.

■ Villagers say the Master of Commerce, a famous musician, took precautions against intruders.

■ All ground and lower floor entryways of the palatial House were boarded to restrict flooding. To enter, pick locks or climb the putrid stairwell towards upper balconies.

Inside, the hissing of running water — and, in the lower levels, of thin, slippery leeches whose bite numbs your limbs, while they attempt to feed. You seem to experience pronounced vertigo when entering any decaying rooms covered in black mould.

■ The beacon is located on a dais in the basement vault room, where water rises near 1 meter. Only a few scattered scrolls and golden decorations remain among decorations, while a large ceiling carving writes, greed deafens man to the cries of his conscience; music sets him free.

■ Some tiles of the marbled floor stand out as you wade — step on one, and all doors abruptly slam shut, while dozens of obscured holes in the wall start to rapidly spill water, threatening to fill the room to the ceiling within the hour. You hear the tinny, waning sound of a village song played from a hidden source.

■ To stop the pouring water and open the doors, sing the song you hear, or find the music box that produces it amid debris on the water-covered floors. Wind it, and it plays its song in reverse, revealing the voice of a laughing elderly man who says, Depressingly, Anurr was right to worry.

■ Don’t forget to check the beacon — and report back to Karsa that it looks structurally untarnished.


THEY SLEEP


After surprising revelations at previous citadels, Karsa tasks you to investigate just how… permanent death is in Yancai. Villagers share that their dead are buried in a strange rite at sea — part of which will take place within days.

■ The dead are ‘entombed’ in one-man sarcophagi ships with carved and chained lids that depict their likeness. These burial boats are set at sea on the first day of each season and return three months later.

■ Join the harbours around 22 May, when mourners gather to receive the burial boats. Characters must pretend to be greatly anguished relatives, acquaintances or debt collectors to join the grieving.

■ The boats float towards you, seemingly of their own volition. Gaze afar and spot a boat carrying a man in black — the same who haunts some characters — who observes until the last burial ship has reached the piers, before he disappears.

■ Sailors draw up the boats and unpeel the untouched chains and lids, to reveal… no corpses. Peer closer and find neither biological signs (stench, liquids) of discomposure, nor the magical chillness of spaces where cadavers have lingered long. Scratch marks litter the inside of some boat lids.

■ Mourners seem grateful that the waters have ‘accepted’ the bodies. Some say that their relatives whose boats have yet to return must have been stolen by the ‘ladies of the lake,’ a villainous witch coven. Speak to mourners or sailors for clues.

■ Linger long near opened burial boats, and you feel tempted to throw yourself into the sea, slowly losing consciousness — until someone rescues you.


AMONG US


On 25 May, village leader Quanze Tsaymien drags the chained and half feral mistress Miang-si to households and Yancai’s largest market square.

The young woman, he says, was seduced by the ladies of the lake — the furtive witch coven that condemned Yancai to time travel. Luckily, the village elders have… coaxed Miang-si back onto the righteous path.

Miang-si is brought door-to-door to point out her 'accomplices.' Ill at ease, villagers whisper of similar witch hunts leading to false accusations and blood-curdling repercussions.

■ Both men and women are suspected and brought before Miang-si. Perhaps she takes an eerie interest in you, getting especially close to catch your scent, touch or remark on (in)visible hurts, or even dotingly kiss you. If you whisper quickly while she’s near, you might be able to ask one question.

■ If you are patient and kind to Miang-si, she briefly squeezes your hand as she withdraws. Within the hour, you find blood writ on your palm that warns, Our fat moon rises red.

■ If you are agitated, or if Quanze rushes her during your visit, Miang-si erupts into sudden, side-splitting cackling — while you find yourself croaking like a toad, or transforming into one and retaining human speech. The spell dissolves after eight hours.

Quanze’s long-suffering men say this sorcery breaks faster if you kiss one of the curmudgeonly emerald toads that hide in some of Yancai’s lakes. Catch one such delightful, slime-spitting creature or barter it from merchants at a costly premium.


ILL MET BY MOONLIGHT


A full moon is set to rise within days of Miang-si’s visit, on 27 May — just as Yancai shows signs of time shifting. Villagers are prone to stilling and staring askance, seeming lost or adrift.

The village itself evolves: one moment, the same house appears freshly new, then drowned, while waterways overfill with water, then seem barren. Overall, the village deteriorates.

■ That day, the sun suffers a midday eclipse, while droves of black birds circle the woods and village outskirts, attacking those who come close.

■ The waters increasingly thicken and darken, preventing boats from entering certain waterways.

■ An exceedingly bright moon and a diffuse lunar replica rise with nightfall. Come midnight, the village is alive with the sounds of ripping, structural collapse and shrieks. Tar-covered corpses emerge from the waters, clawing on and climbing up piers. They swarm, drawing passers-by into waters to drown them. Help them — and foremost, yourself.

■ Light and fire keep the dead at bay. On some waterways, wildfire now spells, WHAT IS WET WAS WRONGED

■ Weaker alone, fresh corpses climb into your rowing boat, pretending they are innocents who seek shelter. They betray themselves by speaking very slowly, struggling to keep track of the conversation or obliviously peppering it with details of their death. They stubbornly ask questions about you, repeating your answers, and become violent if you say they are dead. Push them into the water at first opportunity.

Quanze Tsaymien and other men of the village take arms, urging villagers to barricade in the nearest home, harbour or warehouse and weather the night. They advise to be silent and beware the dead who imitate living voices, warning not to touch any black mould or water that suddenly appear in your home — which alert the dead of your presence within.

■ Some dead try to tear you apart, while others seek to feed you a disgusting, tar-like black mould. A small taste of it makes you sluggish and feeble for two-three hours, while an entire fistful can kill.

■ If the undead infiltrate your house, hold your breath, do not move and keep from screaming. The dead have weak sight and olfactory senses and might pass you by, as long as you stay silent. It can be more efficient to fool than kill the dead.

■ By 5 a.m., houses start to replenish themselves, gaining a new appearance, while water and mould retreat. The dead withdraw into waterways. Outside doors have been marked with blood: vertical lines tell how many living people remain inside; horizontal ones count how many within died overnight.

■ You step to seize a brave new day — while Yancai enters a new time period (further details due in the next plot update).


NOTES

■ The game enabling meme goes up on 25 May.

Hit up available NPCs here or in their new inbox!

QUESTIONS.

matermali: (080)

cave-mates }

[personal profile] matermali 2023-05-18 02:58 am (UTC)(link)
Days 1-5 } cw: blood, scorpion imagery
[ Before secreting away to do her work for the village, Vanessa is sociable enough to others who reside in the cave with her. If there ever happens to be dessert leftover from the night before, she will be first to take it for breakfast. That, and perhaps she’ll dust a teasing farewell kiss towards the hand of whoever she passes first. If Vanessa ever has nightmares, they are well forgotten by morning.

And she does have nightmares, but when she awakens from them late at night she has no memory of them. She only knows that she has to act; she has to defend herself. With memories that can’t be her own, any others in the vicinity might find Vanessa crouched in the middle of the night near the cave’s entrance with a bloodied hand frantically drawing out the beginnings of what will become a sigil of a large scorpion.

If approached, she’ll glance aside but won’t stop. ]


It’s so they can’t find me.

Recovered Memories } aw it's just more drama
[ Since recovering her memories, Vanessa has fewer laughs and flirtations for her cave-mates, instead leaving early and returning late, with little to say for herself and no desire to explain. Occasionally, a plate of sweet treats will be left in a communal space for the others, though she’ll be cautious to do so when they aren’t around to bother her with gratitude. Let the desserts be a 'mystery'.

When the hour strikes late, she awakens from lack of air, choking on a rancid smoke that rises from her pillow. A black cloud billows forth from Vanessa when she lurches and coughs out the poisonous air, then whips around to toss her pillow aside. Underneath it is her tarot set, with one card in particular consumed by the black mass.

The whole set of cards is tossed to the cave floor, and Vanessa is quick to try and smother it with her blankets. She swears for a moment she sees a man in the distance, obscured by the smoke, but he’s gone by the time it subsides. After, Vanessa pulls the blanket aside to find the cards seemingly in fine condition except for the problem card at the center. The back is blank except for a message scrawled in familiar writing: Further still? Will you take us with you?

Compelled to pick up the single card, she crouches and flips it to find a Ten of Swords in her palm. Dread fills her, and Vanessa looks again to where the strange figure once stood. He’s gone, and she knows this won't be the only time this curse finds her. She doesn't need her magic to know. Curses are constant.

There are others here who seem to be burdened with their own curses, and so she tries to stay silent on hers now that she has her wits back about her. ...So to speak. How is one supposed to stay silent after making such a scene? Had others seen the smoke? ]

Wildcard! } set or request a scene
Edited 2023-05-18 04:28 (UTC)
weifinder: (soup | ten billion decibels shattering)

recovered memories

[personal profile] weifinder 2023-05-22 06:14 am (UTC)(link)
( He wakes to his mouth full of a familiar beaded bracelet, the cord breaking as he shifts to sitting up with a violent thrust of his palm down, free hand flying up to cover his mouth. The beads spill out with his violent coughing, caught and held in place as his eyes tear up by reflex. Lan Zhan sleeps beside him, arms crossed over his chest, steady and breathing and alive. Wei Wuxian is glad to see he's still there, has been since their extended separation by Lan Zhan's choice, but it's not his husband who can hold his attention beyond the reassurance while he coughs.

No, it's his gaze lifting to catch sight of the dark form of the man who'd presided over the returned coffin boats, the Dark Man or whatever the villagers had called him. Wei Wuxian's watering eyes watch him step back from the entrance of the cave, swallowed by the rest of the night behind him, even while he shoves himself up, hand dropping away from his mouth to cradle the whole of the carved bead bracelet.

He leaves the blankets mussed and messy at Lan Zhan's side, finding his feet and walking barefoot across the stone floor of the cave toward the front area, where a niche in the wall holds the embers of an earlier fire. The hole through the ceiling allows the smoke to funnel out and away, allowing further the incense that burns during the day hours to escape instead of linger heavy over their collective heads. He blinks the lingering vestiges of reactive tears out of his eyes, glancing down at the collection of wet beads in his hand, the characters carved into them haunting as well as... forgettable. There's a sense of regret, acceptance, longstanding grief that spikes sharper at the name his eyes always catch, night after night.

Jiang Yanli. His shijie, martial sister, elder sister of the heart.

He breathes in past the sharp pang her name still brings to his heart, the tightening bands of his chest, the breath that won't easily leave his constricted throat. Crouching to collect more of the small kindling and wood for the fire stacked to its side, he adds to the embers, coaxing it back to flame with the intention, the hope, of warm water, or perhaps something like tea.

From experience he knows sleep will be slow returning, if it finds him again before the dawn this night.
)